


Reflection

by AliceParrilla18



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Depressing, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Philinda - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, philindaisy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceParrilla18/pseuds/AliceParrilla18
Summary: Eight times Melinda May said ‘Let the girl go’ to someone.
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 15
Kudos: 39





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an eight part Melinda May character study I wanted to write for a long time and worked on it very hard. It’s super sad and depressing, so either go get some tissues or leave and come back later if you’re not up to an emotional breakdown now, lmao. This story is my baby, it’s not perfect but I couldn’t be more proud of it, so I really hope you’ll like it. English is not my main language, so I’m sorry for mistakes (please, remember that we’re all human and that we write here for fun). I’ll be grateful for your every comment. Enjoy! 
> 
> Title is from Disney’s Mulan song ‘Reflection’.
> 
> WARNING : mentions of suicide and visual suicide attempt.

**One.**

_You have to let the girl go, Melinda. Let the girl go._

Looking at herself in the mirror, Melinda wonders what happened to the girl whose heart was full of love, soul full of kindness and mind full of dreams. Where was the girl who wanted to fly, soar so high to see the whole world from above? Who took the girl who was born to protect the ones in need?

 _She_ did it.

She took the girl away and broke her. She forced the girl to put the mask on and hide behind it from the world, to deceive people and herself, to play a part in the show that life was, a life that no longer belonged to her.

That's what she sees in the mirror. The mask she put on the girl's face and made it a part of her. Her reflection isn’t going to show who she really is inside anymore. Because nothing but the Cavalry is left there, there’s nobody, nothing to pull out and put back together.

If she can’t be the hero, then who’s suppoused to save _her_?

By pulling the trigger, Melinda killed two girls. Both as innocent as guilty. Both as good as bad. Both just wanting to _live_.

Her father had taught her that with hard work and perseverance, she can achieve anything, fly high up to the stars. Her mother had taught her that every action has its consequences, and that the higher she rose, the more painful it would be to fall.

She didn't understand then. And she didn't know that one day she would fall so hard she would never get up again. She didn't know that the fall could kill her.

She did this to herself. She’s the only villain in this story.

 _Let the girl go, Melinda_.

Melinda feels absolutely nothing, opening the medicine bottles and pouring them onto her hand. She feels nothing, hearing Phil and Andrew trying to open the door she locked from inside, hearing her husband and best friend screaming and begging her to get out, not to do anything stupid. She feels nothing, throwing a handful of sleeping pills and painkillers into her mouth and washing them down with water from the sink. She feels nothing as she glances in the mirror one last time, to make sure there is nothing left to fight for. She doesn't feel anything, sitting down on the cold floor and waiting, waiting to finally stop feeling for real and let the girl go.

She can't do it differently. The only way to let go of the girl is to let go of herself.

 _Let_ …

The only way. The only right one.

… _the girl_ …

"That’s what I’m doing, Phil. I’m letting her-"

… _go_.

"I’m sorry."

That night, after nearly half an hour of resuscitation on the cold bathroom floor, after Phil breaking three of her ribs trying to make her heart beat again regardless of the other injuries he was causing her, and after emptying her stomach from toxins several times in the hospital, sweet and warm Melinda May dies.

_Long live the Cavalry._

*

**Two.**

_You can't undo what's been done. That will be with you forever. But trying to hold on to this life, clinging to the person you thought you could be, that's hell. And you're dragging her down with you. You have to let go before my people come and make you do it. If you care about her, and I know you do, let her go. Let the girl go._

She wakes up shaking, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

She needs a moment to remember that she’s in her room on the Bus, in her own bed, that the barn, the ghost and the girl are gone. Everyone is safe, the girl is safe. The ghost let her go.

He could do it and he’s free now. _Why still can’t you? Don’t you want to be free, too?_

"May?" Every muscle in her body tightens instantly, preparing to run away. Why hadn't she heard his footsteps outside the door earlier? _Too much, too much thinking. Run_. "May, it’s me. I’m coming in." The door handle creaks softly under the pressure of his hand. It's too late to escape. Or maybe it’s not? "Are you alright? I heard you screaming." The room is completely silent, and in this silence it is his voice, barely over a whisper, that sounds like a scream.

He’s there. Too close. _Run, run, run_.

Her muscles are so tense they hurt. Her teeth bitten on her lower lip so tightly it begins to bleed. A sob so powerful it rips her lungs from the inside as she tries to hold it in. Her heart so cracked that the pieces start to turn to dust.

She won't move. She won't speak. She won't make even the slightest sound. He’s too close. He can't see.

_The mask, keep it close. The mask, it’ll enslave you. The mask, it’ll protect you from the world._

But he's the only one whose gaze seems to pierce right through her. He’s the only one who knows how much pain this day really caused her, how many thoughts were circling around in her head when she pressed the trigger of the icer to protect the girl, _she just wanted to protect her_ , while the rest of the team only got yet another reason to be afraid of her. He’s the only one who knows her, or rather who used to know her, and now is only getting to know a person who sometimes doesn’t even resemble his best friend anymore.

She wants him to be like the others. She wants to be strong enough to fool him too, to push him away for his own good. No one who messes with the Cavalry gets out of it unscathed. It would be better for him, for all of them.

But he's too close. And she's not strong enough to keep fooling both of them at the same time.

She can feel him lie down on the bed next to her, she can feel his hand on her shoulder, skin burning where his meets hers, and then she lets go.

Her body is shaking on the mattress but she’s crying in silence, and he clamps his fingers on her arm, gently but steadily, letting her know that he doesn't know what she's going through, he'll never know, but he's there with her, for her, to give her stability and a substitute for a sense of control over her own fate. His touch is like a distant memory. A memory of hope, an old black-and-white photo that's too faded to see anything in it. The memory of the girl who was once breathing with this hope. The memory of something that is irretrievably lost.

She cries in silence with her back to him, shaking arms being the only sign of her crying, and he holds a hand on her shoulder.

Looking out of the window at the moon, they both think about the same thing, about the then unnamed girl from Bahrain, who died taking the girl from Melinda's heart with her.

And they mourn.

*

**Three.**

"What do you mean… she left?"

The soft voice causes them to freeze, their heads turning towards it. Fitz comes closer in his wheelchair, the doctor doesn't let him walk yet, with his face blank and at the same time full of emotions that his damaged brain cannot fully express. His eyes are wide open as he tries hard to read anything in the eyes of the people who are above him in the hierarchy and know more than he does, who know about things he will never be aware of. There is a hint of hope in his eyes, but with each passing second, that hope fades away, giving way to something Melinda knows too well, sees all too often in her own.

Her heart breaks at the sight.

A cold shiver runs through her spine every time she remembers Ward and his hands on her body, the traitor's touch on her skin, but that's not the reason she hates the bastard the most. It’s the look on Fitz's face when he learns that Simmons left, leaving him alone. It's the way that bastard destroyed those kids, _the kids she brought in_ , just like Bahrain destroyed her. The way their lives had changed forever because of him and there was no turning back from that.

They’re too young, they don’t deserve what happened to them. By recruiting them to the team, she wanted to give these brilliant, genius people a chance to evolve, to be the heroes they dreamed of being. Now that it's all gone, she's just as guilty as Ward, because _it’s her who brought them here_ after all. If Ward is a traitor, then what does it make _her_?

Phil takes a step towards him, but before he can do more, Fitz backs away and drives away in his wheelchair. Phil takes another step, but her hand on his shoulder holds him back and the look in her eyes convinces him to let go.

_I’ll take care of it. I always do. I can’t let him become what I have._

She looks at him like that, and he nods after a moment, squeezing her hand on his shoulder. He understands.

She finds Fitz in the lab, with a tablet in his hands, trembling as if he’s about to break down into pieces, and with his teary eyes staring at the screen. She knows what he’s looking at. Still, she walks over to him and glances out of the corner of her eye at the view from the cameras by the main entrance and sees the figure of Simmons walking out with a bag and a backpack slung over her shoulder. Simmons doesn't look back, doesn't stop. The door closes behind her and she's gone.

The recording starts again. And again, and again. And Fitz watches. Melinda can see the tears streaming down his cheeks from her seat behind him.

She's not good at talking, but she has experienced hell already, and wouldn’t forgive herself if she let hell take Fitz to a place of no return when it was still preventable. She’s lost, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that she has to stand and watch the others get lost as well.

"She needs time, some space to heal her wounds. She’s not leaving you, and she will get back, but before she does, she has to take care of herself. You both have to. And you need to let her." She says, placing her hand carefully on his trembling shoulder. A moment passes before she speaks again, and her voice is so quiet she’s not sure if he can hear her. " _Let the girl go_."

She knows that he doesn't understand these words like she does but she hopes someday he will, and that he will be able to do what she is still struggling with.

The silence that follows is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, it just _is_ , just as she wants him to know she's there for him. Silent, but always nearby. She just _is_.

Fitz doesn't speak, but he doesn't shy away from her touch. And that's enough for her.

*

**Four.**

Melinda knows better, learned not to call a mission easy a long time ago, because then everything usually goes to hell.

So she's not too surprised when Skye's _easy_ mission gets complicated, there are more enemies than they originally expected, they’re forced to split up, and communication fails. She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the irony.

She limps along a dark corridor with a gun pointed straight ahead, when she hears a scream.

Forcing herself to focus, she covers the distance to the source of the scream in seconds. The blood in her veins freezes when she sees a Hydra guy, at least twice her size, pinning Skye to the wall and attempting to choke her. Her sudden appearance doesn’t escape the man's attention. In a split second, he grabs Skye and pulls her towards him, standing behind her and holding the gun to her head.

Skye’s eyes are opened wide in fear.

Ward hadn't taught her much, and May had been teaching her way too short that a suffocation-weakened Skye had any chance of breaking free with a gun at her temple. Too many things are happening, too fast to think of any good way of getting them both safely out of this situation.

_Think. The girl is in danger. Think, think._

May looks at Skye and with all the strength she still has left in her body, she tries to calm her down with her gaze, to assure her that _I’m here and I won’t let anyone hurt you_.

Then she looks back at the Hydra guy and wishes for her gaze to be able to kill.

" _Let_. _The girl. Go_." She hisses through clenched teeth as she takes a step toward them. The man puts the gun tighter against Skye's head, and May can see her holding her breath and struggling not to cry.

"One more move and she’s dead," the man says. Melinda doesn't come any closer, knowing he's not joking.

But she's not joking either. She's not going to let him hurt Skye.

She looks into the girl's eyes again, her fingers gripping her own gun tighter, wanting for some magic force to let Skye hear her thoughts. _I know what I'm doing. Everything will be okay, I'll get you out of here. Just trust me_.

Almost imperceptibly, Skye nods, her horrified gaze never leaving hers, and that's the only thing May needs right now.

She pulls the trigger and the explosion sounds in the air.

The Hydra guy falls backwards with a hole between his eyes, and Skye is free to breathe again.

May lets out the air she doesn't know she's holding in herself. The girl is safe. She was able to save at least this one.

It takes Skye two seconds to get to her and throw her arms around her neck. "Thank you. He suprised me, I was alone and I was so scared. You saved my life. Thank you, thank you."

May doesn't even have the strength to return the hug properly. Skye mumbles something else, but she doesn't hear her. She's safe, and that's all that matters at this point, even the painful throbbing in her side can't beat it.

She’s not sure if it’s relief or an adrenaline rush suddenly sweeping her body and mind. She’s tired. Maybe she could take a quick nap, close her eyes just for a few minutes?

"May?" Skye moves away a little to look at her, fear flashing in her eyes again. _There’s no need to be afraid anymore_. "Where's all this blood from? Oh, my God, you got shot! We need to find the others and take care of it, quickly. May? Hey, look at me. No, no, no, don’t fall asleep. May?"

She wants to tell Skye that she's okay, but she's just _so tired_.

The last thing she feels before her eyes roll in the back of her head and her legs buckle beneath her is Skye's arms trying to keep her from falling.

But, somehow, she’s calm. The girl is safe. That’s the only thing that matters.

*

**Five.**

She wouldn't have thought that the sight, smell, and taste of an ordinary maple syrup pancake could ever make her so happy.

"You know, I already said I’m paying tonight. No one’s gonna take it away from you, May," Coulson says.

"Shut up."

Phil watches her smirking and shaking his head in amazement as she gulps bite after bite at a rate that would normally make her stomach ache, but she doesn't care. It feels like she hasn't had real food in her mouth for years instead of months. She’s so hungry she would eat a horse, their crazy adventures in a modified reality finally cathing up with her body.

Between the bites, from the corner of her eye, she sees Mack getting up from the bar and heading towards the bathroom. She also notices his plate of almost untouched food and wonders about ways to quietly steal his portion.

When she's full, she wipes her mouth with a napkin and excuses herself jumping off the stool to make her way to the toilets as well. Mack hasn’t come back yet.

She runs into him in a dimly lit hallway at the back of the restaurant. She manages to step aside in time so that they only lightly hit each other with their arms, but the touch is enough to bring lost in his thoughts Mack back to reality. For the first few seconds he stares at her blankly, as if he sees her for the first time in his life, but then he blinks a few times and smiles slightly, recognizing her. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

May remembers what his life in the Platform looked like, _what his real life could look like_ , remembers a simple mechanic and his beautiful, wise daughter, _whom she separated from him_ , and knows what's on his mind. She can feel his anger, sense of injustice, regret and despair. She understands attachment to that life, knowing that it didn’t arise out of nowhere, that it was formed from their own thoughts and desires pushed deep into their subconscious.

She understands the longing for something that has been taken away from someone before it really started belonging to them.

"Sorry," Mack mutters under his breath and takes a step to pass her by. She grabs his forearm suddenly, gently forcing him to stop. He looks at her and frowns in surprise. And she looks him in the eye for a few seconds, in complete silence. Under the influence of her piercing gaze, the man twice her size seems to shrink to the size of a child. She can read him like an open book.

"Don't shut yourself away," she says finally. "Talk about your pain, allow yourself to feel it fully, and let others share it with you. Keeping this bottled up will destroy you, eventually. Believe me, I know something about this."

Another broken person she couldn't protect from the breaking.

Another broken person to put back together, knowing the end result will be nothing like the original.

His mouth opens slightly, but he quickly closes it and looks away. She can see the muscles in his face work, tighten so as not to let anyone see the emotions inside him.

_Pointless._

"I just…I miss her so much, you know? And she wasn’t even..." He doesn't have to finish, she knows exactly what he means. _And she wasn’t even real_. "How do I forget, May?" he asks, looking at her like the child looks at its mother, not understanding what has just happened, like at a prophet who knows the answer to every question, like at a magic fairy who can solve any problem.

But she’s neither his mother, nor the prophet, nor the magic fairy.

Sometimes she’s not even sure she’s still _human_.

She shakes her head gently. "You don’t."

"Then how am I suppoused to make peace with it?"

She hates having to break his heart even more, but she can't lie to him. They lived in a world that was one big lie for weeks. They all need the truth now, no matter how painful it is. They have to believe again that they still have a chance for a normal life, and that the hell they went through only strengthened them. They have to come to terms with their losses, whether they’re real or not.

She takes his hand and squeezes it in hers. " _Let the girl go_ , Mack. I wish there was another, easier way, but there isn’t," she whispers, looking him in the eye, and pleads silently in her head that he, _at least he_ , would succeed. "She’ll always have a place in your heart."

Mack doesn't speak for a long moment. He looks down as a few tears roll down his cheek, and as he picks it up again, he takes a deep breath and squeezes her hand back.

Melinda knows he has a long way to go, but she also knows how strong he is, how everyone in the team loves him, and believes that he’ll be alright. He will go through it and become even stronger.

Because he's not like her. He’s better. And he still has a chance.

She watches after him for a moment as he walks back towards the bar, sits down in his seat and pulls Elena closer to him, and her heart feels numb.

She enters the bathroom and pauses for a moment, staring at her fuzzy reflection in the large smeared mirror.

_Coward._

She looks down and walks away.

*

**Six.**

Somehow, she knows that this is _it_.

It's the middle of the night, but she wakes up anyway because she can feel that this is _it_.

She curses herself and her instincts, the agent training that instilled this reflex into her. Perhaps it would have been better if she hadn't felt it, and was just confronted with a fait accompli? Or maybe this instinct isn't strong enough, maybe she should have woken up earlier and tried to do something she knows too well is impossible?

It doesn't matter now. This is _it_ , it’s the middle of the night and she’s _powerless_.

He’s awfully _quiet_.

She can see him try to breathe, she can see how each next lift of his chest causes him great pain. She puts her hand gently to his heart and feels it beating fast and unevenly, as if it’s about to jump out, then slows down, threatening to never return to its rhythm. She puts her other hand to his wrist and feels the blood flowing in his veins slower and slower. His body refuses to cooperate, too tired and too weak to keep fighting.

He’s dying, but he doesn’t make a single sound to it.

She wishes he would scream, cry, groan, _anything_. Then she could justify her own crying and not being strong when he needs it most.

But he's quiet, so she has to stifle her cries. She must be strong. She must find the mask and put it on again.

 _It won’t help you this time_.

She sits closer to him on the bed and leans over him, staring at him with terror in her eyes. "Phil?"

He hears her. He shifts his rushing, feverish gaze to her. For a moment it seems he doesn’t recognize her, but then he reaches his hand towards her with the remnants of his strength. She catches it before it has time to fall, and doesn't even try to hide the unpleasant shiver that runs down her spine as she feels how cool his skin is.

"Mel," he whispers weakly, and she wants to scream.

"I’m here," she says instead, catching his face in her hands. "I’m here, right beside you. Everything’s alright, just breathe."

"I…"

"Shh, don’t speak. Save your strenght and breathe. Everything’s alright."

She wants to get out of here, lock herself in the bathroom and never get out, so she can pretend that all of this isn’t really happening, that the fate that has already taken so much from her cannot be that cruel and take him away too, the only good thing that still remaines in her life.

She wants to be able to turn back time, so as not to make the same mistake twice, and dare to take the first step to have him with her as long as possible, when she still had the chance.

She wants to fall asleep and dream of a happy home with a dog and a cat, a home full of children, joy and laughter that they could have had. About a good life that could have been theirs if it had turned out differently.

She wants him to live, to have more time and to keep being her better half, to continue to support her and love her, to fight by her side, saving the world, which is a better place with him in it.

She wants him to keep being _her_ world because when he’s with her, she doesn't need anything else to keep going.

She wants to run away and never come back because she knows that any place without him will never be a home to her.

She wants to fall asleep and dream until the dreams become true.

But it's not about her. He’s dying and he needs her and her strength to go peacefully. To give him that strength is more than her duty, it is to pay the debt for all those years of protecting her and keeping her alive, even when she didn't realize how badly she needed it.

She’s broken, and he’s the only one who’s always been able to fix her.

He starts shaking.

"Melinda," he whispers again, even though his gaze on her face grows foggy. He wants to reach out to her again, but he's too weak and his hand falls before it can rise.

"I’m here," she repeats. Her voice cracks and tears run freely down her cheeks. "I won’t leave you alone. You can rest."

"I can’t…" he shakes his head, his blurry gaze fixed on her. His chest rises so gently that it’s almost imperceptible. "I can’t… leave you… behind."

She stares at him with wide eyes, speechless, and the tears are dripping from her face onto his skin.

She remembers the moment when he first uttered these words as well as she remembers the answer she gave him then, but she also knows that she cannot use it this time, although deep down inside she’s ready to ask and beg endlessly for him to stay, if it’d only work.

She’s _so_ not ready to loose him.

She looks at him, she sees the pain and fear in his eyes, she sees the light fading, his soul escaping from his body. She also sees fear for her, the enormity of love he has for her that is still there even though he’s dying. These are his very final moments and he’s still worried about her.

She understands that _she’s_ the reason he’s not fully ready to leave. He does exactly what she asked him to do. He does everything not to leave her behind.

And suddenly, she knows exactly what to say to ease him.

" _You have to let the girl go, Phil. Let the girl go_."

She has heard these words a thousand times.

She has spoken them a thousand times herself.

They had haunted her a thousand times in her worst nightmares.

But, for the first time, in this one moment, _she_ is the _girl_.

And it breaks her heart into millions of tiny pieces.

She can hardly see through the curtain of tears forming in her eyes, but she thinks that for a second she can spot the gentle smile on his face.

Then his eyes close, his muscles go limp, and his heart stops beating under her fingertips, and he's gone.

Without screams, without noise, without the last _I love you’s_.

Just like that, _he’s already gone_.

Choking on air and her own tears over his cold body, Melinda wishes she could be gone, too.

*

**Seven.**

Everything hurts, badly, but not as much as hurts living without _him_.

So, in a way, she’s grateful to the alien bastard for stabbing her with the damn sword. He just shortens her misery.

She’s not afraid of death. She’s calm, she has died before after all, and knows there is nothing to be afraid of, as much as she knows that the moment it happens, she’ll see Phil again, and it makes up for all the suffering she’s going through now. She waits for him to come for her and take her with him to a place where there is no pain, suffering, or any other worries. He'll take her to a better place, because every place he’s in, is better.

She’s ready.

There is, however, one thing, one person she regrets leaving behind in this world. One person who’s been the only one keeping her alive for the past year. One person who has a place in her heart as big as Phil has, and who, even though she’s ready to go, is not ready at all.

She can hardly breathe anymore, she feels the pain piercing every cell of her body, but with all the strength she still has inside she forces herself to turn her head and look at the figure kneeling down next to her.

Daisy is no longer the helpless, naive girl Phil found in the van and recruited into his team despite all odds, she’s a grown woman who can take care of herself and will certainly achieve great things in her life. Melinda knows she took a major part in her transformation, knows how much she meant, how much she still means, to Daisy. She also knows how much this girl has been through and how sensitive she is after all, and doesn’t want to leave her, she’d prefer to be able to continue to be with her and accompany her on her way, always keeping an eye on her and offering help when she needs it. She knows that losing both of her parent-figures in such a short time can break her down. And she doesn't want it, although she’s aware that she doesn't have much to say about it anymore.

Wanting it or not, believing it’s possible or not, she became more than a mentor for this girl. She shaped her into who she is now. She taught her to use her strength, to believe in herself and never give up, no matter how hopeless the situation may seem.

She hadn’t realised before that this process made her unwittingly make Daisy a little like her. And it wouldn't be so bad if she only gave her good purposes and values.

She didn't want her to take over her weaknesses, too.

But it happened, and now one of Daisy's greatest weaknesses is _her_.

She’s Daisy’s _girl_ , the same way she has once been Phil’s.

She doesn't like it, but she can't change it. She can't magically save Daisy's girl just as she couldn't save hers, but she can't let losing her destroy Daisy as it destroyed her.

The image before her eyes is so blurry that she can barely see the contours of her face, and her lungs seem to burn with living fire with every shallow breath she takes, so that only miraculously she manages to open her mouth one more time. "Not me… Not your fault… Too good… _The girl,_ Daisy… _Let go_ … _Let go_ …"

Her voice is so quiet, barely over a whisper, she's not sure if Daisy can hear her. She hopes so. She wouldn't forgive herself if she hadn't even tried.

After a moment, when her eyelids become too heavy to hold them open, she feels a gentle kiss on her forehead.

And then she’s truly ready to go.

*

**Eight.**

She’d done this before.

This fact, however, doesn’t make it easier for her this time. It should, considering that she doesn’t feel her own emotions, that where there should be at least a shadow of pain, there’s only emptiness.

Daisy is there only for a few minutes, partly because of her, partly because of him so as not to make it more difficult for him, and partly because, while she had enough time, she’s still not quite ready for his second loss. Her emotions remind May of what she should be feeling, but at the same time they’re the complete opposite. Soon, Daisy leaves, leaving them alone, and May is grateful for that.

She's lost him so many times already, and yet each next one is worse than the last.

His decision surprised her at first, but she soon understood his motives. They've all been through a lot and that goes for him too, no matter if he's human or android. It took her a long time, but finally she realized that he too has feelings, that he shares happiness and suffering with them. She knows he’s tired the same way they all are. She knows that while it wasn't always easy, he still kept trying to be the man they loved and missed, for them, knowing that it would never be enough, that there is no power in the world strong enough to turn him into the real Phil Coulson and fix everything. She knows that feeling when you can't be someone your loved ones want back, and when you let them down, they give up on you. So she understands why he’s doing this, she understands he doesn't want to keep letting them down anymore.

She would feel guilty if she only could. Not being her Phil is not his fault. Being created and brought into this world is not his fault either. She never had the right to blame him for anything, much less for wanting to protect her and the team that for the man whose mind he has, that team was a family.

After all they've been through, everyone must give him the opportunity to make that decision. Repaying for what he has done for them is the least they can offer, and they have to do this no matter how difficult it is for them. They cannot be selfish in the moment when he cannot be more selfless. To force him to stay would be a cruelty he surely didn’t deserve.

The silence around them feels familiar. They stand facing each other and looking each other in the eyes, trying to remember this moment as closely as possible. It's almost like it used to be, as if the real Phil was here, and in that silence she could pass whatever she needed to him, without the need of using words.

Almost.

"I’m not sure how much of him is really in me, but I need you to know that I never wanted to hurt you," he says, though it takes a few seconds for his words to reach her.

When saying goodbye to the others, he was more emotional. He's calmer now, keeping his hand on the button, knowing he’s only a press away from turning off forever. He stands straight, head tilted slightly, and looks at her in a way that is so Phil’s, that for a moment she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between them.

She’s got used to being the person Phil Coulson loved. But he's gone, and they both know that nothing will ever change that. He may seem real, but he’s not. And she only belongs to Phil.

"I know."

"I’m sorry I did it anyway."

"I know."

He waits for more, she can tell, but they both realize that at this moment she can't give him anything more. She's not angry not only because she literally _can't be_ , but she hasn’t decided yet whether, in fact, his appearance in her life was something good or bad, or whether the few moments he could be with her were worth it. She’s not sure she can forgive him something she’s not sure that hurt her in the first place.

So she doesn’t. And he seems to understand and accept her decision, just as she accepts his.

Will she miss him? She doesn’t know. Kids will for sure. She will miss him with them, when she’s in their company, and they’ll share this longing together. It’ll have to be enough for her.

He exhales loudly and looks down at the button he’s holding, and his leg starts trembling. He's nervous again. She doesn't know if it's the memory of Phil's death or the memory of the emotions that accompanied her then, but some inner voice tells her to change it, soothe his mind so that he can go away in peace, just like Phil had.

"What’s wrong?" she asks, coming closer to him. She has to raise her head now to see his face. "You changed your mind?"

"No, it’s just…" he sighs and bites his lower lip for a moment, searching for the right words in his mind. "I feel ready. But the thought of leaving you all guys of my own free will, walking away from you and Daisy, giving up the possibility of being by her side and supporting her, although that's something _he_ for sure would want…" his voice breaks. "It’s breaking my heart."

He looks down at her, and suddenly she's back in Tahiti, again leaning over Phil, again seeing pain, fear and love in his eyes.

And again she knows how to ease him. Because if there’s really even the smallest part of Phil in him, he will understand.

She reaches her hand out and gently puts it on his shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. " _Let the girl go_ ," she whisperes. "Let us both."

She holds her breath unconsciously, as so many emotions flashes over his face that, even if she could feel them, she wouldn't be able to name them all.

But then he smiles, and she knows that this one of the last memories of him, while it should be the most painful, will remain in her memory the longest.

And for the first time since she saw him, she doesn't mind at all.

"Could you… stay here with me?" he asks, getting calm again.

She smiles gently in response. "Of course." She reaches out her hand to him, and he grabs it and squeezes it in his. She doesn’t intend to let go.

He goes quietly, without any noise, _just like Phil_ , with no words they don't need. He goes in peace, knowing that the team he was only partially a part of is safe and happy. He goes surrounded by love, in a place where it all began for him.

When it's over, she leaves the room and starts walking forward, letting her legs carry her through the Zephir One’s corridors to her old bunk. She quietly closes the door behind herself and remains motionless for a few minutes. After a moment, she looks around and her eyes fall on the nightstand next to her bed. She comes closer.

There is a small mirror on the nightstand. She takes it in her trembling hands and raises to her eyes, and then carefully looks at her reflection, fearing who or what will look back at her.

She doesn’t see a hero there, doesn’t see a leader, a villain or _the Cavalry_ , she doesn’t even see _the girl_.

Looking in the mirror, for the first time in a long time, she sees _herself_.

She knows now, that sometimes it’s not the person who change. Sometimes the person stays the same, it’s just the mask that falls off.

When Melinda’s mask falls, she doesn’t pick it up again. She doesn’t need it anymore.

She looks at her reflection in the small mirror again.

And she smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> I miss May so much already ughh :(


End file.
